


Unprofessional

by ecchigo



Series: That Time You Did the Robot [5]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Against a Wall, Dry Humping, Dry Orgasm, F/M, Minor Original Character(s), NSFW, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn in Chapter 2, Prowl likes to throw tables, Robot Sex, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:53:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27008401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ecchigo/pseuds/ecchigo
Summary: [Kinktober 3 - Against a Wall]You'd caught him at a bad time.You want this.
Relationships: Prowl (Transformers)/You, Prowl/Reader
Series: That Time You Did the Robot [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/488762
Comments: 3
Kudos: 62





	1. prelude

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2 to follow soon ;3

You’d caught him at a bad time.  
It should have been obvious, what with the upturned desk and datapads strewn over the floor.  
It should have been a sure sign that you should just go, come back to deliver your reports later, but you had persisted, shutting the heavy door behind you. Prowl had his back to you, venting loudly around a string of grumbled curses. You weren’t entirely sure he had even heard you knock. For a moment, you simply stood, watching. Waiting to see if he would acknowledge your presence.   
He didn’t.  
You tried not to be too disappointed.   
“Prowl, sir,” You were the first to break the tension, thumbs tapping against the datapad you held, “I brought you the–“  
_The reports you asked for._  
You didn’t get to finish your sentence before he had rounded on you, frame so much larger than your own. His optics were intense, furious, and it occurred to you then that you should probably have just left him to it. Prowl was scary when he was angry – you knew that; everyone knew that.   
When Prowl was in one of his moods, it was best to stay out of his way.  
But you had wanted rid of this report, so you could clock out for the evening and join your friend at the bar.   
Now you were probably going to get dumped with more work for disturbing him. He was still looking at you, optics narrowed in suspicion, and you dared not say anything else.  
He wouldn’t hurt you – he shouldn’t, anyway – so why were you so nervous?  
You hadn’t even realised you had taken a step back until he was taking one forward, then two, then three. He didn’t stop until you were chassis to chassis, your back to the wall.  
Ok, this was all getting just a little weird. You reset your vocaliser, and presented him with the datapad,  
“The reports.”  
Optics dropping to the pad, he regarded it for a moment, before moving back to you. Down again, and he took it from you.   
Great, now you could go and get shitfaced at the bar with Clanker and Gearstick and forget about this whole weird experience.   
You jumped a little when the datapad hit the adjacent wall.   
“What the–“ And then his hands were on you. One behind your helm, the other on your hip, he pulled you into the roughest kiss you’ve ever experienced. Mouth opened in shock, he wasted no time in slipping his glossa inside, digits toying with the plates of your armour. With him pressed into your front and the wall at your back, you were caught between a rock and a hard place. Your mind blank, you could hardly process what was happening; it didn’t help when his leg slipped between your thighs. The groan slipped from your vocaliser before you could reign it in.  
But this couldn’t happen. It _shouldn’t_.  
It just wasn’t professional.  
Prowl picked up on your hesitation, breaking the kiss. He didn’t move away, though, remaining firmly in your personal space.   
“If you aren’t ok with this, tell me.” He growled, insistent, your chin caught between his fingers, so you were forced to look at him, “Because if you don’t, I’m going to frag you into next week. Do you want that?”  
Oh, Primus.   
The rational part of your mind told you to refuse. The professional part begged.   
Despite that, you found yourself wanting. You’ve always looked up to Prowl, admired him, but had accepted long ago that you’d never get the chance.   
And yet, here was that chance, coming to you now from his own mouth, demanding your consent.  
You would be a fool not to take it.  
_You want this._  
“I want this.”  
The words were out now, and even if you could take them back, you didn’t want to.   
Anticipation thrummed in your circuits.  
The faintest hint of a smirk curled at his mouth,   
“Good. Let’s begin.”


	2. aftermath

Prowl was not a gentle mech.  
You should have expected it, but somehow, it still came as a surprise. His actions were rough, the way he dominated you leaving you with nowhere to go. You followed his lead as best you could, trying and failing to keep up, even as he hoisted one leg up around his waist. His panel pressed firmly into yours, you gripped at his shoulders – most of your weight was rested against the wall, and you worried a little that you would slip.   
Nipping at the exposed cables of your neck, Prowl cupped your aft in both servos, to pull you closer. Not that that was possible, really.   
His frustrations made him impatient, and without warning, he ground his panel against yours, creating a tense friction between you. A moan slipped from your throat, vents clicking on to a low hum. All thoughts of reports and broken datapads and drinks at the bar were tossed out, replaced by the need for Prowl to have you.  
You needed this. You wanted this.   
He did too, you guessed.  
Shifting your weight slightly, he reached down to press his digits against your panel, lightly tracing the seams he found there. A shudder ran the length of your spinal struts, a keen in your throat. Static played at the edges of your vision, and you came.  
It was hard and fast, brought out of you by skilled digits – but Primus, you weren’t even exposed yet.   
You would have been a little embarrassed, but Prowl didn’t seem to care; in fact, he seemed rather pleased with himself. The smirk was back, without question one of the sexiest things you’ve ever seen.  
With a hiss, your panel retracted, exposing your valve to him.  
Without missing a beat, two digits were inside. You groaned again, rolling your hips, grip tight on his shoulder plates. But you weren’t nearly satisfied yet.   
Neither was Prowl. Though he seemed to be trying to hold off, be patient, it didn’t look like it was working. Moments later, and his spike was pressurising between you. It was beautiful, to be honest, bigger than you thought and lined with pretty blue biolights.   
“Should I..?” Your voice seemed so small, breathy with static, optics focussed on that magnificent piece of equipment.  
Shifting your leg higher, to spread you wider, Prowl sheathed himself entirely before you could even shutter your optics,  
“No time.” 

You cried out at the sensation, stretched more than you’ve ever been; you didn’t think he would fit.  
But he did, setting a hard and rough pace before you could even adjust properly. With every long thrust, he filled you completely each time, and you were seeing stars before too long.  
Well, if one thing was certain, he was definitely making good on his promise. You were going to feel this for at least the next few cycles.  
Hiking your other leg up over his waist, Prowl took all of your weight against the wall; it allowed him deeper still, gravity pulling you down onto him.   
Servo under your knees, he fragged you fast and hard into that wall. You faintly hoped that there was no one next door to hear what you were getting up to. Trying to explain that one away would be a nightmare, for sure.  
But Prowl didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, jaw clenched tight enough that you were sure he’d crack something. He barely made a sound, expression tense and intent; it was a look that made heat pool in your lower circuits.   
Not much sooner, and you were coming undone again. Vision static, you moaned against his throat, trying not to dig your digits into his armour too hard, lest you scrape his paint.  
That would definitely make him mad.  
Half a dozen more thrusts, and he came too.   
To the hilt, he released deep inside you – a tell-tale rush of heat that made you keen again.   
He was slow to release you, movements languid and relaxed. When he pulled out, a trail of silvery transfluid slipped down your thigh. Before any more could escape, he felt for the hidden seams, closing your panel manually.  
You felt so illicit, so dirty, so good.  
Back to business as usual, Prowl turned from you.   
Dazed, you headed for the door, long overdue to return home; you were intensely aware of the transfluid still within you. It made your every movement feel so debauched.  
“I want those reports on my desk by tomorrow evening.” His voice was a firm bark, and when you looked back at him, he was busy righting his desk.  
You were half tempted to remind him they were on the datapad he had so unceremoniously chucked at the wall before your little excursion.   
You didn’t, though, answering with a half-hearted ‘Yes, sir’, before going on your way.  
You were halfway home before it occurred to you what he actually meant. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well that's the smut folks, hope you enjoyed :D


End file.
